And dost thou still, thou mass of breathing stone, <br />(Thy giant limbs to night and chaos hurl'd) <br />Still sit as on the fragment of a world; <br />Surviving all, majestic and alone? <br />What tho' the Spirits of the North, that swept <br />Rome from the earth, when in her pomp she slept, <br />Smote thee with fury, and thy headless trunk <br />Deep in the dust mid tower and temple sunk; <br />Soon to subdue mankind 'twas thine to rise. <br />Still, still unquell'd thy glorious energies! <br />Aspiring minds, with thee conversing, caught <br />Bright revelations of the Good they sought; <br />By thee that long-lost spell in secret given, <br />To draw down Gods, and lift the soul to Heav'n!<br /><br />Samuel Rogers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-fragment-of-a-statue-of-hercules-commonly-called-the-torso/
